


Leaving the Sand Behind

by Catw00man



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Community: fma_slashfest, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-13
Updated: 2011-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catw00man/pseuds/Catw00man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many things Maes needs to leave behind in Ishval, closure is not one of them. Roy and Maes have one more encounter before getting back to the "real world."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving the Sand Behind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cornerofmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/gifts).



> I have to say this turned out a little darker than I intended! I'm not sure what got into Maes but it was definitely more interesting that what I expected from this prompt. Hope you enjoy and I need to say a huge thanks to [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zippit/profile)[**Zippit**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zippit) for the awesome beta!
> 
> Fill for the [fma_slashfest](http://fma-slashfest.livejournal.com) prompt: _Roy/Maes – after Ishbal, Roy being more dominate, Maes enjoying it._  
> 

Maes steps out of the shower and dries himself off with a rough, motel room towel. It’s hardly much more than a threadbare rag but it does the job. Considering they’re only a day’s travel out of Ishval he’s not complaining. It was a blessing just to have running water for a shower, though he didn’t think he’d ever wash away all the sand. There’s so much more he’ll never wash away from this place, but he’ll think about that later. For now he only wants to focus on one thing.

It’s over.

He tosses the towel in the sink, picks up his glasses, then makes his way into the small motel room, still reeling from that single revelation. The war is _over_. It still doesn’t feel real even though he’s been telling it to himself for the last twenty four hours. He’s out of Ishval and if he has his way he’ll never step foot in it again. Maes walks over to his small, dusty duffel bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. He kneels down to pull out his freshest set of clothes which isn’t saying much. It’s a pair of military issue trousers and a white T-shirt. Neither are stained with blood so they’ll do.

He dresses slowly, still numb to nearly everything around him. He spots his bundled and stained letters from Gracia sticking out of the bag and he stares at them blankly. He’ll be able to go home soon. She’ll be waiting for him and he’ll be able to wrap her up in his arms again. But will she still want the man he’s become? They had plans, so many plans, but for months on end he didn’t know if he’d live through another day. He’s done things, things he doesn’t want her to ever know about. Would she still be waiting for him with open arms if she knew—

A hard knock causes him to jump and for a moment he hardly registers what the sound is. He turns his head when it comes again and he realizes it’s coming from the other side of the door. They told them they’d be left to their own devices until the train leaves tomorrow. The flimsy door rattles as the pounding comes again and he stares. The gruff man who gave him his key promised it’d be single occupancy since the room is hardly more than a closet with a cot and a table. He was lucky enough to get his own bathroom. Is that why he’s being bothered now?

The door knob turns and it’s only then Maes realizes he must not have locked it. His eyes widen slightly as the door pushes open and he considers taking the step it would take to reach out and hold it closed. But he doesn’t and when the door finally opens enough for him to see who’s behind it he’s unsure if he made the right decision or not. Dark eyes lock with his and with a shuffled step they’re face to face as his dusty bag falls from his shoulder. He should’ve been more than a day behind him. Apparently Mustang’s unit made good time out of Ishval.

“Man said we had to double up.”

Roy’s still wearing his uniform along with the long, dingy white coat they were all required to wear in the desert. He’s covered in sand, same as Maes was when he arrived, and his gloved fingers are slightly curled at his sides. Those hands are lethal weapons and Maes knows it. They saved his life more than once, but right now the thought is nearly too much and he wants to take a step back but the bed’s right behind him.

Roy closes the door behind him and Maes sees the same weary “deadness” in his eyes he knows is in his own. They’ve all seen too much, done too much, and are in a collective state of shock from the harshness of everything. It’ll take some time and distance for that to wear off and in a flash of inspiration Maes wonders if that’s the reason so many of them are stationed in this out of the way town south of East City. They’ll all be sent back to Central for a debriefing to be told exactly what they can’t say and what they’ll be ordered to forget. Now he wonders if this “layover” is only to give them distance from the war so the trains arriving in Central aren’t full of zombie solders.

“It’s probably because you got here too early….”

His words drift off and tension fills the air. He’d deliberately left Ishval without speaking to Roy and he’d fully intended to make it all the way back to Central without seeing his face. He needed time. They both did. He still plans on keeping his promise to push Roy to the top but he needed some space _away_ from him first. The hard, intense look on Roy’s face makes him wonder if he guessed the truth and if his unit actually arrived early or if it’s only Roy. He parts his lips to ask but he’s never given the chance to utter a single syllable.

A strong hand fists tightly in his hair and the sharp pain makes him cry out, not that anyone could hear it. Roy’s lips were already covering up and swallowing any sound he might make. Maes attempts to pull away, to back up, but like before he’s trapped against the end of the bed and there’s no way he’s going _there_. Not this time. The rough fabric of Roy’s glove covered thumb traces down the side of his neck and Maes tries to flinch away. How many people did he kill with those gloves? Roy never tried to touch him with them before. Why now?

“Stop.” Maes’ voice is rough with more than weariness and grief and he curses himself for it. This is one of the things he has to let go if he’s ever going to leave Ishval behind. Yes they took comfort in each other not knowing if each day would be their last. But the war is over now and they _both_ need to let this go. He tries to push him back but Roy doesn’t release the painful grip he has on his hair. “Roy, stop. We need to—.”

But that’s as far as he gets before Roy’s tongue shoves into his mouth. He attempts to pull back again but when Roy’s free hand slides down his back and grips his ass he stops fighting. Maes wavers then kisses him back with the same desperation. They aren’t home yet, and in this moment, kissing him, he doesn’t feel quite so dead inside. Maes reaches up to cup Roy’s face in his hands and he doesn’t care about the sand or grit on his skin. It fits the situation. It fits this.

Roy releases the death grip he has on his hair the instant he takes an active role in the kiss. Maes’ scalp still aches from the bruising grip but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is pushing the dirty coat off Roy’s shoulders. The light, coarse fabric falls to the floor and Roy’s hands are on him again, stripping him out of the T-shirt he just put on. Rough, ignition gloves glide over his bare skin and Maes tries to twist away but Roy holds him firm.

“Don’t.” Dark, intensely black eyes with none of the bare trace of cobalt he’s seen before stare back at him and Maes goes completely still. He can’t do anything else. Not with that hard look pinning him down. Roy slides his gloved hands over Maes’ chest and he tries not to flinch, but does anyway. “This is what we are. Stop trying to pretend any different.”

Roy doesn’t have to elaborate to make his words clear. They’re killers rutting in the aftermath of their own destruction. Never before has Roy been so adamant about facing this. Every other time it was about an escape, for the both of them. Maes doesn’t understand why this is different, but something deep inside tells him this needs to happen. He needs to face whatever it is Roy’s so determined to show him and he nods once.

Roy grabs him again, kissing him hard but this time Maes isn’t a passive participant. He pulls at Roy’s blue coat, shoving it to the ground with the long white one then tears at the buttons of his shirt. The sooner Maes can lose his pain to this the happier he’ll be. Somehow between groping hands and frantic kisses he gets Roy as shirtless as he is, but when he reaches for his pants Roy grabs both his wrists, hard.

“What’s wrong?” Maes frowns in confusion because he’s not the one who started this. Is Roy changing his mind already? What is this? He tugs at the iron grip and is about to ask again when Roy turns him suddenly with a training move he should’ve seen coming. In an instant both his arms are twisted behind him and he stumbles forward. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Roy’s breath is hot against Maes’ neck as he jerks him back against his chest. Roy’s never done anything remotely like this. Maes feels the rough fabric of his gloves as he continues to hold his wrists tight and he winces at the pull in his shoulders. This feels _dangerous_ in a way it never has before. Maes struggles against his grip but he surprisingly holds firm. “Roy?”

“I’m not going to be your _girlfriend_ today, Maes.”

Maes barely has time to process his words before he’s shoved roughly against the rickety table in the corner of the room. For a moment he’s not sure what he’s getting at and tries to turn around. But then Roy shoves him hard again so he has to catch himself over the table and it all becomes crystal clear. He whips his head around, wide eyed, expecting Roy to be right in his face and ready to force him into this. But he’s not. He’s a step away giving him a hard look. He’s made his request and apparently the next move is up to Maes.

Maes returns Roy’s silent stare and now he sees the deep pain in his eyes. They’ve never done it like this before and to be honest he never even thought about it. Roy always gave him what he needed and now, for some reason, he’s asking for more. Maes straightens his glasses that have been knocked askew and wets his lips. He’s never considered this. He never wanted this. But right now his blood rushes hot in his veins, his body aches to be touched again and he knows there’s only one way he’ll be getting anything from Roy today. He holds Roy’s intense gaze another moment then nods once more. “Ok.”

Roy’s on him in an instant, kissing him and running his hands over his body. It’s even more frantic and wild than before with the same undercurrent of danger that radiates from Roy now. The war has turned him into a weapon and that weapon is pointed right at Maes. He kisses him back, just as aggressively, and reaches down between them to rub over Roy’s crotch. He groans into Maes’ mouth and bucks against his hand for a moment then shoves him back against the table. Maes hears the aged wood creak under the pressure, and when Roy pushes him back across it he’s certain it won’t hold his weight. But it does and in another moment he’s looking up onto those dark eyes again.

Roy’s face is streaked with dirt and there’s a cut over his eye Maes doesn’t remember him having before he left the front. His dark hair, damp with sweat from the heat outside and this stuffy room with no air conditioning, hangs down into his eyes but Roy doesn’t seem to care. Maes wants to reach for him, like he has before, but he gets the distinct impression as Roy unfastens Maes’ trousers that isn’t what he wants. His breath catches in his throat as Roy’s hand wraps around his cock and he hardens under the familiar touch. Roy knows his body entirely too well.

Maes wets his lips again and squirms under Roy’s intense stare. He looks like he wants to devour him and he honestly wonders if he just might. He’s never seen him like this before and his heart pounds so loud in his ears he can’t even hear his own ragged breathing. Roy tugs his pants off and Maes’ eyes widen when he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a tiny jar.

“Asshole. You were planning this.”

The barest hint of a smirk curls the corner of Roy’s mouth up and the darkness in his eyes lightens a shade. Roy grips Maes’ hard cock in his gloved hand and Maes gasps despite himself. Since when did he become such a superior bastard? Roy leans over, licking his lips, and Maes’ mouth goes dry at the sultry sound of his voice.

“Not the asshole I’m concerned with right now, Maes.”

He should buck him off or kick him away. Roy has no right to make assumptions or talk to him like this. But then he lowers his head and sucks Maes’ cock down his throat and he completely forgets why Roy’s coming prepared was so annoying. If there’s one thing Roy’s good at besides turning people into smoldering corpses it’s this right here. It’s how it all started to begin with. He grips the edge of the creaking table with his hands and throws his head back as he rocks up into Roy’s mouth.

The sinful, hot suction is so good he almost doesn’t notice the hands spreading his thighs further apart. Maes’ body tenses but then relaxes when warm hands slide over his skin instead of the scratchy ignition cloth. It’s one less reminder of what they’ve become and he’s grateful for the moment of respite. Roy massages his balls as he slowly bobs his head over his cock and it’s almost good enough for him to ignore the slick finger rubbing over his ass. Almost. He grips the edge of the table so tight it creeks under the pressure. Roy’s eyes meet his and he needs to tell him he can’t do this. He just can’t.

There’s a moment of recognition in Roy’s eyes. Maes is certain of it. He opens his mouth to apologize but all he can manage is a low groan as Roy takes him completely down his throat and sucks hard as he ever so slowly pulls back. His tongue lashes over him, swirling over his head and aggressively attacking his slit in a way that has Maes bucking off the table in a good way. He does feel the slick finger push past his tight ring of muscle but his body is trembling with so much pleasure he doesn’t care. It doesn’t hurt and right now that’s the only thing that could make him turn this away. Maybe. Or maybe he’d just grit his way through it.

Maes spreads back on the table and he’s never felt so exposed and vulnerable in his life. Pleasure and heat radiate through his body and he lifts up slightly to watch Roy’s dark head bowed over him and sucking him like a lifeline. He squirms as the finger curls inside him and it leaves an aching need he can’t completely understand. He’s not even sure what he needs but when Roy slides another finger in the feeling only grows stronger. “Fuck, Roy, just do it. You’re fucking killing me, you asshole.”

He feels more than hears the low chuckle around his cock. Maes grits his teeth. If this is all about teasing him for some fucked up reason—

Oh, shit.

Maes eyes snap open and he’s not even sure what Roy did until he does it again. Roy’s fingers thrust sharply into him and instead of the pain he’s expecting it’s a pressure and a sharp feeling of something that makes his cock throb and his balls ache. His hands scratch at the chipped wooden surface beneath him and he whimpers with a longing for something he can’t name. Maes squirms on the table, gasping when Roy pulls his fingers back and his eyes widen even more when Roy steps back and slides his slick hand over his own thick, hard cock.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, is the only thing going through Maes’ mind because there is no way _that_ isn’t going to hurt like hell. He wants to find the words to tell him they need to stop. He can’t take _that_. Everything’s felt so good but he wasn’t thinking. There’s no way. Roy moves toward him with the same dominant smirk on his lips and reaches for Maes’ hips. He drags him to the end of the table and Maes shakes his head. They can’t. _He_ can’t. But one look up into Roy’s dark eyes and he knows this is his damnation and he deserves every second of it.

Maes sucks in a sharp breath. Roy’s cock is right against his ass and Maes’ hands tremble as they white knuckle over the end of the table. “Damn it, Maes. Relax,” Roy tells him with a surprising lack of irritation in his voice. Roy’s hands slide up his body, thumbs brushing across his nipples as he leans forward. Maes only realizes his jaw is clenched when Roy’s lips meet his in an initially soft kiss. In this moment Roy’s not demanding, not forcing and Maes opens his mouth to his hot, wet tongue. It sweeps through his mouth deeply and he relaxes into the touch. He still feels the tip of Roy’s cock pressing at his ass but he ignores it as he reaches up and wraps his arms around Roy’s shoulders.

Roy’s kiss has always been sinfully erotic, almost as if he were trying to fuck him with his mouth. Considering where his kisses always lead there may be some truth to the fact. Maes groans under the kiss and pulls him tighter against him. He slowly spreads his legs a bit more as Roy presses between them and he cries out into the kiss as he finally pushes inside. It’s a long, slow stretch and Maes has to break the kiss as he arches back. He was right, it’s so much more than his fingers but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as he imagined. It’s uncomfortable though and he can’t help but think of all the times Roy did this for him. He never complained, but could he have really wanted this as much as Maes thought?

Roy’s hands run over his chest and trail downward until one wraps tightly around Maes’ cock. He runs his hand over him with hard, even strokes and Maes’ body responds by fully hardening again in his grasp. Roy slides his thumb over his tip with every upstroke and before long he’s actually able to relax around the hard cock in his ass. “Roooooy,” he gasps out, not really sure what he wants just knowing he needs something to quell this tight ache building inside him.

“Right here, Maes.” His voice is rough and husky and it’s only then Maes realizes how much Roy’s been holding back. He was never able to hold off this way when he slid into Roy’s tight ass and he reaches up to grip Roy’s shoulders. He nods at him, unable to form the right words. Like it or not he won’t back out now. If anything he owes him for all the times—

“Holy shit!”

Roy rocks back and thrusts into him hard and deep again and Maes’ mouth drops open in shock at the sizzling, jarring pleasure that shoots through him. It’s like it was with his fingers but _so much fucking more._ Maes digs his nails into his shoulders in an effort to hold on because Roy’s not holding back now, and he doesn’t want him to. His bare shoulders scrape across the rough wood of the table but he doesn’t care. If anything it just heightens the already mind-numbing pleasure. Roy’s hand tightens around his cock and he can hardly even see through the hazy, erotic bliss clouding his eyes.

Maes cries out wordlessly and it’s the only sound besides their ragged breathing and the table scratching across the floor with each of Roy’s hard thrusts. He looks up into Roy’s dark eyes and his breath catches at the look: so completely dominating, so totally in control. He’s at his mercy and he doesn’t know how he feels about it because he can’t form a thought. Pleasure consumes his body and he trembles with it, writhing against Roy with each thrust and bucking into his hand until everything whites out. Maes cries out his release, still clutching tight to his shoulders as Roy seeks and finds his own release.

Roy slumps over him until the heat of their bodies and stickiness of his release has Maes squirming under him. The hard, rough wood at his back is getting more uncomfortable by the minute and his shoulders burn from where he’s sure they were rubbed raw. He feels used in a way he’s never been and numb from spent pleasure. Roy pulls away and Maes groans when he pulls out of him. He closes his eyes as he lies bonelessly on the table, too weak to move until Roy takes his hand and tugs on his arm.

Maes cracks his eyes open when Roy continues to pull at him and he forces himself to sit up, groaning. He slides off the edge of the table on unsteady legs and that’s when he realizes his shoulders aren’t the only thing sore. He winces as Roy pulls him the couple steps to the small bed and Maes collapses on it beside him, face first into the pillow. He has no idea what to say and his mind is still sluggish but a few things are beginning to fall into place. _That_ was intensely erotic, completely overwhelming, and beyond a doubt… _not_ him. And he has a feeling Roy knows it.

He feels Roy’s hand slide over his lower back and his warm lips lightly brush his shoulder before pulling away. The bed creaks as Roy rolls to his back and Maes can feel the length of his body along his side because there’s barely room for the both of them. He’s not sure what to say to him, not sure if he even should, but Roy seems to understand and is the first to break the silence.

“I’ll be good for you to get back to Central. I’m pretty sure you’ll have quite the welcoming committee.”

Maes lifts his head to see Roy staring up at the ceiling with a surprisingly serene look on his face. He knows him well enough to know his words aren’t mocking. They’re genuine and if he had any doubt he knows he’s right when Roy turns his eyes to look at him. That’s when his words from earlier finally make total sense. “Before…this, you really were humoring me, weren’t you?” He comes just shy of saying he was “being his girlfriend” because even though Roy said it he doubts he’d like to be accused of it directly.

A slow smile slides across Roy’s lips and he reaches down to lace his fingers with Maes’. “It was war, Maes. You weren’t the only one who needed something to hold on to. But the war is over….” His voice trails off and Maes understands _why_ he’s here. It wasn’t because he felt Maes owed him anything for all the times before. Roy squeezes his hand before subtly pulling it away. He was trying to show him what he really wanted and from the knowing look on his face he realizes Roy already knew the answer before asking.

This isn’t him. Though if he’s honest with himself, if he’d just run back home like he’d planned, he has a feeling he might have always wondered. He stares at the man lying next to him and shakes his head. In a way, he just gave him his life back. There’s no question he feels deeply for Roy and over the past months it’s been easy to confuse it with something more, but somehow Roy knew the whole time. The smug look on his face says it all.

“You asshole.” Roy’s smirk grows and he can’t help himself. He leans forward and kisses it off. Maes feels his surprise when their lips meet with an initial hesitation, but when he doesn’t immediately pull back Roy relents and kisses him back. He just showed him something amazing and something he knows he’ll leave behind in the desert. But for now, for this moment, he’s not quite ready to let it all go. He breaks the kiss then murmurs against his lips. “When does your train leave?”

“Tomorrow. Same as yours. Turns out you won’t be getting rid of my face for a little while longer.” He smiles at Roy’s low chuckle and shakes his head. It’s no lie he loves this man, even if he knows from this day on it’ll just be as friends. But for right now….

“So…I guess that means we still have time to do that again?” Roy’s eyes widen then darken to a shade he’s come to know very well over the last few months. He was right. Roy’s not quite ready to let this go either. They have a whole night ahead of themselves and in this heat it’s doubtful they’d sleep much anyway.

“And you dare call me the asshole.” Roy reaches up and threads his hand in Maes’ hair. He grins and pulls him down for another kiss Maes returns eagerly. He may never be able to be the one Roy’s obviously looking to find, but he does know he’ll always be by his side. He _will_ help him reach his goal, but for tonight he wants to keep chasing away the look he saw in his eyes. They’ll leave a lot behind tomorrow when they get on the train. Thankfully it won’t all be pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and concrit are always loved and appreciated. :-)


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